A Message Never Recieved
by FrameofReality
Summary: A death knight entrusts his last message to his mate to his estranged half-brother. However, the death knight's luck isn't with him.


Night shrouded the dense forest, a full moon glowing through the newly sprouted leaves to illuminate a small break in the foliage, where a large Worgen sat atop a rock, eyes closed. His weathered silver armor shone faintly as he tapped his claws on the runed blade of his weapon which rested in his lap almost innocently. He frowned in thought, though the lower half of his face was hidden by his odd helm. He let out a yawn before snapping his jaws shut, teeth clicking together, his protruding fangs scarping the inside of his helm where furrows had formed from such actions. The wind howled in the distance before it reached him, rustling his black fur and carrying a familiar scent… His eyes snapped open, icy blue irises identifying him as a death knight narrowing, ears flattening against his skull.

Another Worgen emerged from the underbrush, fur matted and disheveled, body muscled but lean, and he paused at the sight of the ebony form. The death knight raised a brow, as if to question why he was on all fours, to which the other simply ignored, sitting on his haunches.

"Hello, brother." The icy-eyed one rumbled, voice gruff and deep, to which the other stiffly dipped his head in greeting. "I would ask you to utilize your words…"

A scoff sounded. "Oh? Why's that, Marrokk?" The scrawnier of the two stood, beginning to circle his half-brother. "We **are** beasts, are we not? I'd have thought you would know that better than anyone… Right, Mar?" He stopped in front of him, smirking.

Marrokk knew he was being baited and was unresponsive for a moment. "We are only as beastly as we allow ourselves to be, Ruir."

Ruir raised a brow, cracking his neck. "You say that…but deep down…" The younger Worgen's voice dropped a few octaves as he leaned forward. "You and I both know we, our kind…**we're** what mothers warn their wayward pups of."

"This dance can wait. I want you to do something for me." Mar stood up abruptly, causing his brother to jump back a few steps, amber eyes cautious.

"And what would you ask of me?" Ruir revealed his teeth in a mock smile.

Mar paused for a moment. "…You must have an idea…"

"That you're reverting to your old self? Of course…I can see the wild in your eyes…your scent is faintly feral. Is there a reason for that?" He seemed smug.

"…Maybe. Maybe I need to face this, finish it…"

The smaller Worgen let out a bark of laughter. "Save your self-righteousness. This is about **her**. She left you…after all you did for her…" Ruir paced around him, face set in a snarl. "You protected her, held her, taught her…**loved** her. And she runs off with him. I told you!" He stopped in front of Marrokk, stomping his foot almost childishly. "She's nothing but a filthy knife-eared **whore**-"

In a flash of steel and a chilling snarl, Ruir yelped as he was shoved against a tree, his brother's form and blade pressed against him. The death knight's eyes narrowed to azure slits.

"Choose your next words carefully…" His voice was low and hostile. "Only half of our blood is shared. She means more to me than you **ever** will."

Ruir flattened his ears against his skull, a quick flicker of pain and sadness passing through his eyes, too quick for his half-brother to notice. He was silent for a long time, and Mar eventually dropped him.  
"I'm going into the Dream…I want you to inform Shouta. I would tell her myself, but…she'd try to stop me."

"Ah, so that's the scent I'm choking on…you reek of her." The smaller Worgen grumbled, rubbing his neck. "This is the one with the child?"

"Yes…but I plan to raise him as my own. Despite who the father may be."

"How noble. Why are you entrusting me with this task?" The question was a barely contained growl.

"I can't get a hold of the others…just…give her this letter." Mar handed him a slip of paper, sighing. Ruir eyed it for a moment before nodding. "…Right."

As the death knight moved to leave, the other stopped him with his next question. "…What of her, though?"

Marrokk paused, gazing up at the moon. "…You were right." He said, almost thoughtfully. "She was…never mine to have…" By the time the younger had blinked…he was gone.

Ruir looked back at the letter before closing his eyes and shaking his head, putting it in his bag. "Mar…**when** will you learn?"

Downwind hidden in the leaves of a gnarled tree, a spectator to their exchange merely smirked, eyeing the Worgen's bag. "…Never…" he whispered, watching as his new target got up, and he moved silently to follow.


End file.
